Something For the Rest of Us
by Elphaba-Rose
Summary: Leonardo is struggling to slip back into normality after his visit to Central America, and Raph isn't making things easier for him. It takes an unexpected trip into the unknown before he can start fitting the pieces back together again. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

A.N: Ah I should probably be shot for starting a new story so close to university. But I'm planning this to be reasonably short (by my standards), around four chapters or so. We'll see how it goes. Besides I wanted a break from writing turtlecest lol. I took inspiration for this from the album _Something For the Rest of Us_, by the Goo Goo Dolls. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ninja Turtles. I am not gaining any profit from this.

Something For the Rest of Us

Chapter One

He breathed in deep through his nose, held it for a few seconds, and then released it through his mouth. The long exhale misted into a grey cloud, smattering the darkness with moisture. He repeated this many times, his chest heaving with the contractions of his lungs. It was a long time before he was anywhere near normal again.

The words echoed all around him. They were loud, unrelenting, and he struggled to block them out. The almighty rage had died down now, leaving a feeling of emptiness in its wake. He could see the mistakes now, could identify when he should have stood his ground and when he should have backed down.

He sighed and leaned against the cold wood of the park bench. It was too late now anyway. He might as well enjoy the milky glow of the moon before he returned home for the lecture he knew was waiting for him. He gave a dark chuckle. How ironic that their roles should be reversed.

Since he had returned home from the jungle, life had been difficult, to say the least. He'd lost a piece of himself back there in the scorching rainforest, and no one had seemed to notice, or care. He'd returned to find his family broken and he wasn't sure if he knew how to mend the pieces.

His relationship with Raphael had suffered greatly. About Michelangelo and Donatello he needn't have worried. With them it was as if he had never left. But Raph was bitter, hating, cold. He rebelled against every order, challenged every opinion, even insulted him at any given opportunity. Things had even got _violent _from time to time. He shuddered at the memories.

He didn't know what to do any more. He'd hoped that after the incident with Max Winters, Raph's hostility might have dissolved. And it did, for a time. But then he forgot the harsh sting of guilt and regret, and the animosity returned with a renewed fire.

He didn't even know what he'd done this time. Things at home were bad enough as they were, he didn't need anything adding to his plate. The weight was crushing once more, and their Sensei did nothing to relieve that anxiety. If anything, the old rat had increased it: how could he lead when his second in command fought him day after day?

He didn't mean to blame Master Splinter, not at all, but just lately he'd found himself cowering in fear every time he was summoned. He could nothing right. If he wasn't _perfect _then his father did not approve. The slightest mistake could cost them a life. He was never allowed to forget that. He didn't even think he could now.

He missed the jungle with a fervent hunger. His leathery skin was losing its sun-worn colour and he couldn't sleep properly at night without a canopy of leaves and stars. He had felt at home there, as if he actually belonged. He had been respected, celebrated even. Those villagers _loved _him. It was certainly a shock to his system, coming home.

"May I sit here?"

A feminine voice pierced the silence and he jumped violently. He spun around to see a young girl stood to his left, waiting patiently for his answer. He stammered, looking around and behind him in shock. He could _swear _that he had heard nobody approach. It wasn't possible for a human to catch him unawares. She cleared her throat and he realised he was being rude.

"Er, yes, of course," He stuttered, blushing deeply.

"Thank you," She replied politely, sitting beside him.

Who _was _she? He stared at her in awe. She looked just like a normal, human girl, probably his age or slightly older. Her heart shaped face was unnaturally pale, upturned to watch the sky. Her lips were a deep pink in contrast, her Prussian blue eyes reflected the stars that wheeled overhead. Her raven dark hair hung in tight curls, resting on her shoulders. Her eerie beauty was marred by the ugly purple bruise that blossomed along her throat.

"I'm sorry, I've never been crept up on before," He admitted awkwardly, looking upwards.

She gave a quiet laugh, but didn't reply. He felt silly, sitting with her. He had thought this place was completely deserted, otherwise he wouldn't have stayed. What was she doing here? It was three in the morning, didn't she have a bed, a family? He opened his mouth many times but never dared question her for ages.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" He burst out suddenly when he couldn't take it any more.

She looked over at him and her stare made him flush. She examined the weathered emerald skin, the tough, oval shell, the bulging muscles, the large calloused hands, the shining pair of swords strapped to his back. Then she peered into his eyes. Big, round, chocolate behind a mask of blue, and found a familiar pain, a familiar burden.

"No," She answered finally, turning back to the stars. "I've seen scarier things," She decided casually.

He was taken aback, but not disappointed by her decision. She was new, intriguing. After the events at home, she was a welcome distraction.

"Like what?" He wanted to know. Maybe they could compare, he'd seen some pretty scary stuff in his time.

"Like ghosts," She murmured off-handedly. He gulped nervously.

"You see ghosts?" Strangely enough, he could believe her capable, even though he'd never believed in the supernatural before.

"This city is crawling with them," Her almond shaped eyes roamed the park before them, staring as if she genuinely watched figures move silently in the night.

She had such a chilling aura he couldn't help but shiver involuntarily. Without a doubt, he believed her. The way she surveyed her surroundings carefully, the way she froze for a second as if one had passed too closely, it was all too real. This girl could see the dead.

What on earth was he getting himself into? He'd had his fair share of the weird and unexplained, but he'd never paid much attention to the idea of spirits. Heck, he'd even been named the Ghost of the Jungle by the villagers in the rainforest, but that was because he was a ninja, because he was one with the shadows.

"You're alright now," She observed brightly, looking him over. She must have been able to tell he was starting to get freaked out.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked in confusion. She gave him a wide smile that lit up her entire face.

"You were very upset earlier. You're alright now," She repeated.

"Er, yeah, I was...wait. You were watching?" He frowned in disbelief and she laughed again.

"Only for a little while. I come here often," She explained, rubbing her bare arms.

"You must be freezing," He commented, noticing she was only wearing a plain black summer tee. "Here," He made to take off the thick scarf wound around his neck but she shook her head.

"No, don't bother. Thank you, but I can see you need it more than I do. I am a mammal after all," She grinned and he laughed in return.

"Yeah, being a reptile does have its disadvantages," He acknowledged cheerfully.

It was easy to be around her, he realised. He didn't feel like he had to hide or be on his guard around her, even with her interesting talent. He'd never interacted with anyone his age before, not counting his brothers, and he found he enjoyed it. He enjoyed rediscovering who he was.

"Who did you argue with?" She wanted to know, initiating a more sombre mood. His smile faded.

"My brother," He said sullenly, remembering the bitterness. "We don't seem to be seeing eye to eye recently,"

"You used to be so close," She said quietly, watching him curiously.

He pulled a face in suspicion. It hadn't been a question, it had been a statement. How on earth would she have known that? There was more to her than met the eye, he was sure. She seemed so certain, so knowing.

"Yes. Before I took a training pilgrimage to Central America. Since I've come home he's been...difficult," He elaborated slowly, forlornly.

"I think he's jealous. You experienced freedom and he didn't. That's got to be hard," She sympathised gently.

"I know that, but that isn't my fault. I didn't ask to be sent away," He shrugged, fiddling with the threadbare ends of his scarf.

"He doesn't see that you need help. And you can't blame him, you never ask for it, do you?" She responded, eyeing him with a compassionate look that made him shiver.

"You seem to know an awful lot about me," He noticed cautiously. Frustratingly, she gave yet another laugh, as if she knew something he didn't.

"I'm a very observant person, and you're easier to read than you think," She grinned, looking cheekily up at him. He gave her a half hearted smile then looked away. He found himself wanted to shudder if he looked at her too long.

"What brings you out here? Aren't you cold?" He wondered, searching for a change in subject. She obliged, noticing that talking about himself made him uncomfortable.

"I come here to clear my head sometimes. I have difficulties with my younger sister too," She shared with an understanding smile he was grateful for.

"Being the eldest is hard," He admitted with the slightest blush.

"I know," She replied simply.

Nothing else was said for a while, and they were happy to sit in each other's company. He was relieved to find someone who could understand and agree with him, even if she scared him a little. She seemed to know quite a bit about him to say they'd just met, and he wasn't entirely sure it was just good guesswork. She was too certain of her answers.

Not only that but she held herself with an ethereal grace he'd never found in a human before. She moved as if constantly aware of many presences, eyes forever darting around the vicinity, watching the actions of invisible people. She gave him the creeps. He was not usually so easily freaked out, but then he'd never met anyone like her before.

"I should go," He said reluctantly at last.

"They will be waiting for you," She nodded, getting to her feet with him.

"It was nice meeting you. I'm Leo," He announced formally, holding his hand out for her to shake. She giggled but did so anyway.

"It's good to meet you Leo. Will you come back sometime? I liked talking to you," She smiled widely, fingering the bruise on her throat absent-mindedly.

"Maybe. It depends on...what's happening at home," He pulled a face, he was really _not _looking forward to what was waiting for him when he got there.

"Things with Raphael will get easier, I promise," She assured softly.

"I hope so. Well, goodbye then," He offered her a small smile and turned to leave the park.

"Goodbye Leo,"

He had only taken a few steps when he froze and his blood ran cold with realisation. He'd never told her Raph's name. He spun on his heel to question her but she was nowhere to be seen. Impossible. Did he imagine her? No, he couldn't have, she was real enough. Just so, _bizarre. _He shuddered violently and went on his way, sprinting to reach the safety of home, lecture or no.

Master Splinter was waiting for him when he returned, just like he knew he would. I had been worse than he'd imagined, the guilt and the anger. He couldn't help but feel frustrated again. So Raph was allowed to escape and blow off steam but for him it was forbidden. But he had squashed down the bristling fury, repented and obeyed instead.

Lying in bed afterwards, he hated himself. Yes Master Splinter, no Master Splinter, how high Master Splinter? He couldn't even bring himself to argue with the old rat about what to have for breakfast. Everything he did revolved around his Sensei's words and actions. He could never disobey him, because it had been drilled into his head ever since he could remember.

Disobey and they will die.

He huffed to himself, rolling over and beating his pillow into a more comfortable position. His brothers meant the world to him, but couldn't he have a voice of his own? No wonder Raph hated him, he was such a coward. Raph was rebellious, brave, opinionated. Everything he wanted to be.

He found himself wanting to sneak out again, to find her and sit with her. She had calmed him, even understood him. He would never find that here. Mikey had been playing his video games when he had emerged from Splinter's room earlier. The youngest gave him a sympathetic smile, but he didn't understand.

She did. She had a younger sister, she knew the pressure, the guilt. He didn't even ask for her name. He groaned in annoyance. How stupid. He was never going to see her again anyway, but it would have been nice to know her name. Still, it helped knowing someone out there knew how it felt.

He wondered how she had received that ugly bruise. It looked like it had been applied with some force. He had had many like it from years of fighting, and knew those to the throat were particularly painful. Yet it was none of his business. She would have told him if she wanted him to know.

He dreamt about her that night, and every night after that. She was even scarier in his dreams, magnified by his imagination. She spoke to spirits, laughing with them, even arguing with them. Sometimes he could see them, twisted, grotesque images of every Foot soldier he had ever killed. They poisoned her against him with lies and hatred. He often awoke in cold sweats.

He didn't return for many nights though. His mind was forever plagued with thoughts about her however, and he found himself distracted, even forgetful. His memory had gone completely when asked to perform the simplest of katas. He had even been snapped out of bouts of daydreaming, something that had never happened before, even when he was a child.

He was ashamed to think so much about her. He had better things to do. Besides, he'd only met her once, briefly, and perhaps never will again. This was pathetic, allowing himself to become so absorbed in her. He had to concentrate on leading this team, he had to repair the rift between Raphael and himself, he had to-

"Leo!"

He blinked and looked up from his breakfast, realising everyone was staring at him with varying levels of curiosity and exasperation. He looked away with a blush. This was happening far too often lately, and it had to stop.

"Honestly Leo, this distraction is not like you. Are you sick?" Donatello wondered, observing him closely over his cup of coffee.

"I'm not sick Donny," Leo muttered uneasily, feeling very much like he was being scrutinised by a psychiatrist.

"Then what's wrong bro?" Mike asked pleasantly, piling pancakes into his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in days. Raph flinched and moved his cornflakes out of harm's way.

"I just have a lot on my mind, that's all," Leo replied casually.

"You'd have thought eighteen months in the jungle would have cleared ya mind," Raph commented snidely.

"Please don't start today Raphael, I'm not in the mood," Leo responded, getting up to put his dishes in the sink.

He valiantly ignored his brother's reply about having a stick up his ass and continued to the dojo for some meditation before practice. He knew it would be of no use. His futile attempts at achieving peace of mind were so rudely interrupted with images of her. His ghost whisperer, he had taken to calling her.

He'd told no one about her. For starters, he didn't think anyone would believe him. A young girl that didn't shriek and bolt at the sight of him and could talk to ghosts? How absurd. And how could he explain how she knew so much about him? Splinter would give him a lecture about secrecy for sure.

No, this was best kept to himself. It was his problem, he would deal with it. It would go away, eventually. He would forget all about her and everything would go back to normal. He needed to focus on more important things, like Raph and the team.

There would be no more thoughts of the ghost whisperer.

He hoped.

To Be Continued

A.N: Well there's the first chapter, I hope your interest is piqued hehe. Please review, it would mean a lot to me. I don't think the next chapter will be too much of a wait, despite my looming university classes, as I am full of creative juices for this story lol. Thank you for reading, see you next time!


	2. Chapter 2

A.N: Hello everyone. Me updating so fast? I know, it's a miracle haha. I am so grateful for all of your reviews, and I'm so pleased this story has been well received. It's good that people like my OC, and they can rest assured there is no turtle/OC romance in this too! Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Something For the Rest of Us

Chapter Two

The evening's practice session seemed to go on forever. Leo was sure the clock was playing tricks on him. He was positive they'd been working out for longer than a mere half an hour. He just couldn't focus. No matter how hard he tried to ignore her, her pale, Gothically beautiful face floated into his mind.

Raph had been winding him up all day, more so than usual. He was there every chance he got, questioning his leading abilities, his decisions, his thoughts. Someone only had to mention Karai's name or the Foot and it released a floodgate of scorn. He couldn't do anything right.

He grew angry just thinking about it. Raph had suggested the possibility that Karai had only come out of hiding and threatened them because he had returned from the jungle. It was ridiculous of course, but Leo couldn't help feeling both furious and ashamed.

What did Raph want from him? What was he supposed to do? Give it all up? Not a chance. Besides, Splinter would never let him. This meant far too much. He'd spent his entire life striving for that role. But his brother was wearing him down, tugging and tugging at the edges. He would unravel in front of their eyes before long.

He had thought things were better. After that awful fight on the rooftops that time, and being abducted by the Stone Generals, he thought it was all behind them. What was with all this animosity? Did Raph truly hate him that much? What had destroyed that temporary truce?

He let out a growl of frustration and struck harder. He wished he was sparring Raphael so he could let out some of this anger. Mikey was not a satisfying partner. He was cheery, too easily distracted, prone to jumping around rather than practising serious fighting.

"Leonardo! Your form is sloppy. Concentrate!"

Leo grit his teeth together so hard his jaw ached. He had to fight hard to block out Raph's jeering. He couldn't help reacting by attacking faster, stronger. The whole idea of form went out the window. Rage clouded his judgement and for the first time he wondered if this was how Raph felt.

Without knowing he struck his brother's hands, sending his nunchaku flying across the room. Next second he was sweeping his feet from underneath him, tossing him over his shoulder mercilessly. The scrape of Mikey's shell as it hit the concrete was ear-splitting. But still he could not stop. He leapt forward with a yell, brandishing his swords, and all he could see was red.

"Leo! Stop!"

Mikey's terrified cry bought him back down to reality. He stared, horror struck, as he realised his blade was centimetres from his brother's throat. Mike flinched, frightened of the crazed look in his leader's eye. Then, before he knew it, Raph had shoved their brother violently out of the way and helped him up.

Leo hit the floor on his bottom with a thud. He felt sick. He knew taking his anger out on Mike was unfair, but he just hadn't been able to help himself. Seeing Mikey whimper and clutch his head as the rest of the family clustered around him broke his heart.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Raph spat at him, glaring daggers.

Leo just stared helplessly back. He couldn't comprehend anything. One thing just flitted in his mind. Run. Get out. He needed to breathe, to calm down before he went to pieces and came undone at the seams. Numbly he got to his feet.

"Leonardo don't you _dare _walk out of that door," He heard Splinter warn menacingly.

Leo paused, considering it. Then he shook his head. No. He needed to listen to himself this time. He walked out without even a glance back. No one followed him, too concerned with Michelangelo. He took his coat and set off at a run, head spinning.

He didn't stop or concentrate on anything other than the pounding of his footsteps. The night air was freezing and made him gasp, but it cleared his head. Stupid, so stupid. He shouldn't have let his fury get the better of him like that. It wasn't the quality of a good leader.

He slowed to a trot as he got closer to the small park, breathing heavily. He hoped to god she was there. He needed understanding, someone to listen to him. He couldn't go on like this. Next time he might not be able to escape like this. Next time he might be trapped. He couldn't take that risk.

She was sat on the bench, peering up towards the clouds. There were no stars tonight, it would probably snow. She was wearing the same clothes as before, dark jeans and that small black shirt. He couldn't understand how she didn't freeze to death. She gave him a wide smile as he sheepishly approached.

"Hey," She greeted brightly. She frowned then, catching his expression. "What's wrong?"

"Just an accident," He sighed, sitting beside her. He turned to look at her and jumped in horror. "Your bruise..." He trailed off, staring.

It hadn't faded one bit. Days had passed since he last saw her. The abrasion on her throat should have discoloured to yellowy grey hues, but it was as purplish black as it was the day he met her. She fingered it self-consciously.

"It never goes," She shrugged casually.

He couldn't help but stare. That was ridiculous. All bruises fade. This had to be another one, in the same place, surely? But it looked _exactly _the same. He had to repress a shudder. He'd forgotten how much she creeped him out. It was as if she hadn't moved in a week, everything was exactly the same.

"So how have you been?" She wondered, smiling politely until he realised he was staring rudely and looked away.

"Fine. Well, no, but you know. The same, I guess. You?" He blushed, noticing he was babbling out of nervousness and embarrassment.

"Same old," She replied simply with another shrug.

"I didn't think you'd be here," He admitted.

Nothing was said for a long time. The girl narrowed her eyes as if she hadn't heard him. Slowly, she watched something invisible make its way across the park. Chills ran up his spine as she tensed suddenly. He had a sickening feeling something malicious was in the vicinity, observing them.

Then it was gone. The atmosphere returned to normal and the girl visibly relaxed, breathing out a grateful sigh. He couldn't help the shiver of apprehension this time and she gave him a sympathetic smile, one he remembered well.

"Sometimes they can get a little...unhappy," She explained gently. He didn't have to ask her who.

"Have you always been able to see them?" He asked curiously, pulling his coat tight against the wintry wind.

"No," Was all she said on the subject.

He didn't ask another question about it. He could see by the way she tensed again and how she pressed her lips tightly together that it wasn't something she liked to talk about. He was curious, but not to the extent where he wanted to be freaked out again. So he asked her about something else.

"How's your sister?"

"Same as she always is," She snorted deprecatingly then scowled.

He shut up again. Clearly another subject he should avoid. He felt cheated. He'd come to her for understanding, for relief, but he was feeling as wound up as ever. There was something wrong tonight. She was different. She was far less pleasant, quick to become sombre. It didn't suit her, he decided.

They fell into an awkward silence after that. He began to feel that maybe coming he was a mistake. He should have stayed at home, made sure Mikey was okay, faced the consequences. He was going to get it worse now he had ran out. But really, what could Splinter do? Take away his privileges? He wanted to laugh with bitterness.

"Mikey doesn't blame you," She assured him finally. He jumped at the delicate sound of her voice, he'd almost forgotten she was there.

"I know he...how do you know his name? And Raph's for that matter?" He asked suspiciously. She fixed him with a piercing look.

"Your mind screams their names," She whispered. He froze, as did the blood in his veins.

"You can read minds too?" He mumbled, dazed. She gave a little, annoying laugh.

"No, not exactly. You worry about them far too much you know," She informed him, rubbing her arms again. She didn't even have goosebumps.

"I know, but you can't tell me you don't worry too much about your sister either," He argued softly, not noticing that she had left her previous answer unexplained.

"No, I do," She agreed with a nod. "There are differences though," She shrugged.

"Differences?" He frowned.

"Yeah. Tell me some more about you," She requested cheerfully. He squirmed, uncomfortable.

"You already know so much about me. Tell _me _about _you_," He demanded, and she laughed again.

"Very well. Let's see. I was twenty-one in October. I live with my sister, Anya. Our parents died a long time ago you see," She explained needlessly. "I was too young to remember. It was a car crash, pretty brutal apparently,"

He wondered in awe how she could talk about such things with so little care. Obviously she had been through a lot, been responsible for her little sister from a young age. Most people would have cracked by now, but not her. Here she was, solid, strong.

"I worked as a teaching assistant for a time too. I really enjoyed that," She smiled at the memories, it was clear it had been something she loved.

"Why did you stop?" He asked, seeing this.

"Family death," And then she gave an incredibly ironic laugh that didn't at all match what she had said.

He almost wanted to scoot away from her, yet know more at the same time. He eyed her in disbelief, not quite sure what he was hearing. This girl was strange. Stranger than anyone he had ever met. And now he was getting to know her a little bit better, she was really starting to scare the shell out of him.

"So, that's me. It's your turn," She invited, finished with her private joke.

"Me?" He asked, taken aback. He had been expecting her to talk more about herself. "Um, well, I'm the oldest of four. Master Splinter, he's a rat, brought us up and taught us ninjitsu,"

Before long, he was explaining their origin, and he'd never had such an attentive audience. She gasped in all the right places, murmured in sympathy when she was supposed to. He was finding it easier and easier to open up to her, despite her disconcerting actions. No matter how weird and frightening she was, he could tell she never meant him any harm. That was just how she was.

She seemed fascinated by tales of his brothers, no matter the content. He recounted trips into space, warlords, immortals and Stone Generals and she listened eagerly to every one. Some of the memories made him laugh out loud, whilst others burned deeply and painfully. It helped with his animosity and apprehension however. He relaxed into her presence, forgot all about his loss of control and the wrath of Splinter.

She loved to hear about Mikey in particular, and he couldn't blame her: the kid was adorable. A huge pain in the butt, but adorable all the same. He told her about his talent for cooking, and the way he created chaos at the same time, like when he decided to experiment and exploded hot dogs in the microwave.

"He just gave up a job as a kids' party mascot. Cowabunga Carl," Leo chuckled remembering his brother's outrageous costume and foam nunchaku.

"Oh I bet he loved that," She grinned.

"Oh yeah. He said all they did was pelt him with birthday cake and gave him nightmares," He scoffed in amusement.

She burst out laughing this time, great, melodic peals that echoed in the night. He laughed with her a while but then he stopped instantaneously when he saw she was turning hysterical. She buried her face into her slender, white hands, laughing loudly and desperately. Her whole body trembled and it wasn't long before he realised she was actually sobbing.

"Hey," He said gently, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. He had no clue how to deal with weeping girls.

He reached out nervously but she wrenched herself out of his reach. She strode forwards, glowering at the sky. Furious tears slid down her cheeks and she held herself tightly. Her mascara dribbled in black streaks from her eyes, a stark contrast to her skin. He stared at her, at a complete loss as to what to do.

"Someone save me,"

Her voice was that quiet and wrecked with sobs he barely heard her. He didn't know why he felt so distressed, he just knew he'd never seen anyone look so defeated in his life. The honourable warrior within him anguished to see her cry.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't answer but continued to weep pitifully. Growing frustrated he climbed to his feet and marched to her side. He grabbed her shoulder forcefully and was instantly met with a flash of blinding light that vanished as quick as it came. He withdrew his hand in a stupor, it stung as if he had plunged it into a bucket of ice. Shivering, he noticed a new breeze that hadn't been there before.

"You shouldn't have touched me," She whispered sorrowfully, turning to face him. She still had mascara trails on her white cheeks.

"Who are you?" He hissed in fearful awe, cradling his injured hands. She smiled sadly.

"A spectre,"

"You mean like a ghost?" He gasped, backing away in spite of himself.

"I've been dead ten years today," She explained mournfully, wiping away the mascara. Her make-up remained perfect underneath the smudges and tears.

He gulped. A ghost. No wonder she could see them, she was one! How could he have not known before? It all made sense now, the deathly pale skin, the weird talents, the everlasting bruise. He shuddered at that point. She must have been strangled to death.

"How come you're..." He broke off, unable to finish as fear choked up his throat.

"Visible? Because it's my anniversary. I...was murdered. I can't rest. I..." She was overcome by tears once more, long fingers cupping her neck frenziedly.

"You're stuck in limbo," He discerned, abruptly filled with nausea.

"Yes. And god Leo, you don't know how much it _hurts_," She wailed. "I just...wander. Every day. Never passing on, surrounded by all these furious, broken shells of former lives,"

She scowled around her, and with a start Leo unexpectedly felt many presences, aching with rage and hurt. Then they disappeared and his heart resumed its frantic beating. He had always been hyper aware of his surroundings but this was just plain terrifying.

"How come you can't pass on?" He felt compelled to help, to free her. But how could he fight the unknown?

"She stole my locket. I won't go without my locket, it was my mom's," She answered stubbornly.

It sounded petty to him, but who was he to argue with a ghost? Besides, it was her mother's, she must care for it a great deal. He felt sick, this was all so overwhelming. His problems at home seemed so pathetic compared. He only left to clear his head and now he was getting wrapped up in a horror story.

"Who killed you?" He whispered, but from the fierce grimace on her face, he already knew the answer.

"My sister," She spat in disgust.

The ugly expression on her face depleted the tragic image of a tortured soul and turned her into an unearthly being he could actually be afraid of. But he had to do this. Bushido commanded the helping of innocents, and he could never deny this girl a chance for freedom.

He would free her even if it killed him.

But he just had to know one thing.

"What's your name?"

Her smiled erased every inch of hatred and pain and she was beautiful once more.

"Taryn,"

To Be Continued.


	3. Chapter 3

A.N: I must apologise that I haven't updated as quick as I did before, I've had classes and writer's block. I think I'm on a roll now though haha. By the way, the technical information in this chapter is more than likely incorrect, but it helps the story, so it's staying. Also, I've had a little artistic license with the dates, meaning this story is not set in 2010, but rather 2000. So here we go, chapter three, hope you enjoy. Feedback is much appreciated.

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Something For the Rest of Us

Chapter Three

He didn't know where to start and she wouldn't tell him. But then again, if she knew how to get herself out of limbo she would have done it ten years ago. He didn't have many clues to begin with. Donatello was the one for mysteries, not him. He'd just wished she'd have told him a little more, a surname maybe, or where she'd died.

After speaking her name she'd vanished, like it was a breach of secrecy or something. It was as if she stepped back and melted into the shadows of the trees, smiling as if her wildest dreams had come true. She had faith in him, he knew. But he wasn't sure if that faith was misplaced or not. He'd called her and called her, but she had left him alone in the dark with no answers.

It had started to snow now. Dusty white flakes settled onto his coat and on the ground. His frustrated breath swirled in mists around him. He would freeze if he stayed out much longer, but he was still trying to absorb it all.

He was still finding it difficult to think of her as a ghost. A spectre, she had called herself. Both sounded strange. She had looked so solid, so human. It was only when he had grabbed her shoulder and felt that ice sharp pain did he realise she might not be completely human. And that bizarre flash of light that hurt his eyes, it was almost cheesy, cliché even, but no joke. She was clearly hiding the extent of her powers.

What on earth did she mean? _You shouldn't have touched me_. He'd touched her before. He shook her hand the very first time they had met and nothing happened. Sure, her hand was a little cold, but he had assumed that had been because of the December wind and she was wearing nothing but a t-shirt.

Then he groaned into the silence, remembering all the nightmares that awaited him at home. There was no way he was getting out of this. Splinter would be after his blood and Raph would never let him live it down. Poor old Mikey. He didn't deserve to take the brunt of his elder brothers' anger. He and Don were caught up in the middle of all this mess.

Still, it was no wonder he hadn't been able to get her off his mind. He seemed to be a magnet for troubled souls. Out of all the people in New York, he had to wander across a young, imprisoned spirit. He wasn't even a medium or anything, he had no affinity for the supernatural. And yet fate had chosen him for some crazy reason.

He sighed and leaned back against the bench, letting the delicate snowflakes drift on to his face. They took a while to melt. What were his options, what did he know? Her name was Taryn, she died ten years ago aged twenty-one. She had lived with her sister Anya before she had murdered her. She had that odd bruise and she wanted a locket. That was all he knew. Certainly not much to go on.

Surely there would be files, archives, articles on the murder? Although homicide happened every day in New York City. It was never really big news. But he had to start somewhere. Where would these archives be kept? They were from ten years ago. Did people keep newspapers from that long ago?

He could look in the library. People could research family history from hundreds of years ago, there was bound to be something useful there. But you had to pay for those services, and he didn't know how to hack into computers. He didn't like it, but he only had one option. Donatello's computer, that could access anything.

How was he going to drag his younger brother away from said computer? It wasn't that late at all, Donatello would surely be on there, experimenting something or developing research. And Leo hardly ever went on the computer, only when he desperately wanted to know something he had no way of finding out on his own. Donatello would know something was up.

But still, he had to try. Who knows, maybe Don had opted for an early night, leaving the machine unattended. It was highly unusual, but not completely unheard of. He just hoped that Mikey hadn't commandeered the contraption and renewed his obsession for the Sims. Occasionally, when he was bored of his other games, he would install every Sims game he owned and played for hours upon hours, much to Donny's chagrin. Then after about four days he would get bored and leave it alone for months on end.

Either way, Leo would have to face Splinter and Raph, there was no doubt about it. But Taryn took priority at this moment in time, that he knew for sure. And he would tell no one about her. This was his secret. He doubted anyone would believe him anyway.

Grimly he got to his feet, shivered bitterly and started the trek home. The city, he decided, was grotesquely beautiful at this time of year. He liked to see the snow settle peacefully on the streets, until the pure blanket was adulterated with dirty footprints and spilt coffee and urine and just turned to brown slush. He hated brown slush.

It was slow going. He had to make sure he didn't leave behind a blatantly obvious mutant footprint trail. Even when he finally made it to the rooftops he had to be careful. All it took was a Foot ninja on a nightly patrol and they'd be discovered. He hoped his brothers were this diligent about hiding their tracks in the snow, and with a sinking heart he realised they probably weren't. He'd have to call a meeting about it in the near future. When he didn't have a pushy ghost to deal with.

He almost laughed out loud. He was feeling bitter again he'd noticed. His trip to the surface had done nothing to alleviate his bad mood. He'd bet Raph was just basking in smugness and looking forward to the telling-off their so-called 'Perfect Leader' was about to receive. Leo couldn't help the growl that crept out of his throat. Raph knew nothing. Let him try a week as leader, then see who would be gloating.

He let out a frustrated breath. As if he didn't have enough to deal with right now! Why couldn't this Taryn have waited until he'd sorted things out at home? Or better yet, why couldn't she have found someone else to release her from limbo? Why did all this crap have to happen to him? Something just wasn't right. He imagined someone up there having a good old laugh at his expense.

He was grateful to enter the warmth and light of the lair. It was comforting, despite knowing he was not the household's favourite turtle right this moment. He took off his coat and hung it up, glad yet again Donny had figured out how to set up a central heating system. They were blessed, really.

He heard loud laughter and explosions coming from the living room so he made his way there. He wanted to apologise, although Mike couldn't be too hurt if he was on his video games. Thankfully Raph and Splinter didn't cross his path, he wasn't sure how he would react to lectures and sneering when he was highly strung.

To his great surprise, it was Donatello sat on the couch with their younger brother, both button bashing as if their lives depended on it. They laughed hysterically at the zombie parts flying all over the flickering screen, and Leo couldn't help but chuckle quietly at their exuberance. Pause was instantly pressed and they swiftly spun to see who was there.

"Hey you're back!" Mike grinned cheerfully, clearly harbouring no hard feelings. Leo's stomach twisted nauseatingly when he noticed the ugly red graze on his head.

"Mikey, I am so sorry," He began earnestly.

"Relax dude, it's just a scratch. Tell him Don,"

"Honestly Leo, it's minor bruising that's all," Donny reassured him with a nod.

"Still, I shouldn't have blown up at you like that," Leo continued mournfully.

"Whatever, we all have bad days, don't beat yourself up about it. Come mutilate zombies with us!" Mikey turned back to the screen and flicked the pause button again, allowing the game to revive.

"You okay?" Donny asked sympathetically to the older one, seemingly nonchalant as his character was mauled due to his inattention.

"Yeah. Can I borrow your computer please Don?" Leo requested, almost shyly.

Unexpectedly, he thought he saw a shadow twitch out of the corner of his eye. He stared at the spot, there was nothing there but the rickety old table that the telephone sat on. He frowned uneasily, he could have _sworn _he saw something move. With a jolt, he realised Donny was still talking to him, and hadn't noticed the flit of movement.

"Hm?" Must have been his imagination, overworked with all this worry of spooks and the like.

"I _said_, do you want me to set it up for you?" Donny repeated, eyeing his leader suspiciously.

"No, I remember, thanks,"

Donny watched him leave the room, brow furrowed in thought. How strange. Leo never used the computer, hence his offer to boot it up. And he was so on edge, the slightest thing had made him jump. It was even as if he was imagining things, the way he had been fixated on the phone, as if waiting for something. He shook his head and returned to the game. Things had been difficult lately.

Leo tapped his fingers, waiting for the machine to warm up. The metallic humming was loud, obtrusive. He hoped it wouldn't wake Master Splinter up. It was a stroke of luck that the rat had gone to bed. He guessed the tongue-lashing would commence come morning now.

Ignoring the various windows that popped up and the instant messages from April, he opened up the Internet and set straight to work. He didn't have a clue what the best course of action would be, but he felt a shot at Google couldn't hurt. After all, Google knew all.

Ten years ago today, she'd said. So that made it the seventeenth of December, 1990. He typed in the date then paused, unsure what to add to that. Could he get away with just 'news articles'? But surely that would come up with thousands of results, and he didn't have the time or patience to trawl through them all. Maybe a specific paper then? The biggest one there was.

He tapped the keys to input 'New York Times' and pressed enter, suddenly feeling a little apprehensive. That stunt in the living room had made him wary. He was probably just anxious, but he couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been there, disturbing the spindly old table.

He was met with numerous results just like he knew he would be, but the first page looked promising enough; the archive vault for the newspaper. He clicked the link but was greeted with a screen prompting his log-in details. His heart sank, he'd hit a snag already. He didn't have a user name or password, and he could see from the advertisement that it cost money he didn't have to subscribe.

He moved the mouse to exit the page, not realising it hadn't finished loading yet. He blinked in surprise. In the boxes provided, a user name appeared and a number of black circles indicating a password had been entered. Don_Rox. He laughed in spite of himself. Looked like Donny had already subscribed. Hardly believing his luck, he pressed the log-in button.

A list of articles popped up, detailing every item in the Sunday edition of the newspaper for the seventeenth December 1990. Locating the search box he put in two words, his fingers trembling so much he had to hold delete and try again. Murder. Taryn. It took ages to load. He grimly mused that it would have been quicker if he knew her surname.

It produced one small article from the evening edition. It barely took up half a page. He read it swiftly, then had to reread it, twice, three, four times. He leaned back afterwards, and let out a shaky breath. Things were starting to make sense. And he had a starting point. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough to get him going. And he had a second name now.

Walker. Taryn Walker.

Finally recovering enough to move, he printed himself a copy, then exited the page and logged off. He fingered the piece of paper, still warm from the printer, and contemplated his next move. He was struggling to keep his breathing under control, overwhelmed by an unexplainable anger firing up in his belly.

He couldn't go rampaging through with revenge in his heart. The article hadn't been clear, he didn't have all the answers yet. And besides, it wouldn't be what Taryn wanted. The locket. All he had to do was find the locket and bring it back to her. Then it would be over. Taryn could finally rest and he would return to the mess he lived in.

He folded the paper up and tucked it into his belt for future reference. He stood, realising when his legs quivered that he was frightened. He didn't know what awaited him at the end of this journey but he already knew he would be a changed man. No one could go through what he had and come out without a scratch. It wasn't possible.

Decided, he went to fetch his coat. He didn't stop to talk to his brothers this time, but then again they were that engrossed with destroying the undead they probably wouldn't have noticed him anyway. He briefly considered leaving it until tomorrow night, but he had a strong feeling he wouldn't be allowed to leave the dojo, let alone the lair itself. Besides, there was a kind of a perverse justice tonight anyway.

He met Raphael out in the sewers. They were as shocked as each other, but Raph's face soon split into a cocky grin. Leo's stomach dropped to his feet. This was the last thing he needed. But he could see from Raph's expression he wasn't going to let him go without a fight.

"Sneaking out again, Fearless?" Came his snide remark. Leo clenched his fists.

"Please Raph, just drop it for tonight," He begged in exasperation.

"Are you kidding? You realise how awesome it's gonna be watching Splinter kick _your _butt for a change?" Raph crowed gleefully.

Leo shook his head and sidestepped, but his brother merely mimicked him. Fed up, the older one darted forward, confident his superior speed was enough. To his fury, Raph followed, catching his wrist in a vice-like grip and tugging hard. Leo stumbled in shock. For a minute, neither of them knew what to do.

"Raph you have to let me _go_!"

And with that, Leo wrenched free and shot off down the tunnel without even a glance back. Raph was so confused by the desperation and passion in his elder brother's voice he didn't think to follow, just watched him run until he was out of sight.

For once, he didn't have to quell the anger, as it didn't even come. There was just bewilderment, and even a little concern. That was new. Usually he just wanted to kick his leader's teeth in, he was so filled with antagonism. He couldn't explain it.

Everything Leo did just pissed him off recently. Here he was thinking things would _work _between them after the Winters fiasco, but Leo had just turned straight back into the Fearless Leader and everything was as screwed up as it was before he even left for the jungle.

He frowned and shook his head. He didn't have a clue what to do about it, and Splinter just seemed to be ignoring the situation, hoping things would improve if he just left them alone. Raph had a feeling that wouldn't happen. He sighed and turned to go back inside.

Something on the floor before him caught his eye, a folded piece of paper. Her certainly hadn't dropped it, he wondered if Leo had during their little tussle. It was probably an invasion of privacy but Raph didn't care. Curiously, he opened up the paper and was bemused to find a newspaper article. What was Splinter Junior up to? He read it eagerly.

_TEACHING ASSISTANT MURDERED BY SISTER FOR DRUG FIX._

_21-year-old Taryn Walker was found dead in the early hours of this morning in her apartment on Queens' Estate. Walker, who taught at her local middle school, appeared to have been brutally strangled to death and then dumped in the bathtub. _

_It is suspected that her sister, Anya Walker, 18, flew into a fit of rage after her sister refused to borrow her money to pay for her growing addiction to heroin. Heroin is a class A drug believed to lead to HIV and Aids, of which New York is currently experiencing a terrifying epidemic._

_Walker has been placed under arrest in a secure rehabilitation clinic pending investigation. The funeral will take place on Friday. Both parents refused to comment._

To Be Continued


	4. Chapter 4

A.N: I apologise for the late update. I've been quite busy with university, and as I'm doing a drama course there's a lot of rehearsing and extra-curricular stuff. I've had this planned for quite a while, it was difficult actually writing it as I'd got lots of ideas and wasn't sure how to put them down. I will warn you that the next chapter will most likely be the last. Thank you for reading this far.

Something For the Rest of Us

Chapter Four

He felt dizzy. He hadn't even been running for long, a half hour or so. He loved running, had done since he was a kid. He used to sneak out and just run around the sewers for hours. He couldn't really explain why he liked it, he just did. Sprinting through the jungle was best. He could go for miles listening to the squelch of damp earth beneath his feet and feeling a sprinkling of sun on his shell.

He hated running through snow. It turned to slosh and made his feet feel like blocks of ice. It was slippery too, he'd nearly broke his neck a few times. Still, it was harder to leave tracks when the snow was just grey slops.

He hoped Raph wasn't following him. He didn't want another confrontation with him, not when he had such an important task. He didn't think Raph would do that anyway, he was the live and let live type usually. Besides, it wasn't like he could get into any more trouble. He was already in Splinter's bad books.

He almost laughed out loud at the irony. Within days he'd destroyed that paradisical son image. If he'd have been told that he would start sneaking outside, carelessly assaulting his younger brother for no good reason, blatantly disobeying his father, he wouldn't have believed it at all. But he supposed there was a limit to everything. His good behaviour was bound to falter some time.

He'd deal with that in the morning. Confront Raph and draw up a compromise or something. Keep a cool head and refuse to take the bait. The guy couldn't complain at that surely. He would be giving in, giving him what he wanted. Raph would be happy and he'd finally catch a break.

But for now, he'd go to Queen's Estate. He wanted answers, and Taryn's sister was his only lead. He didn't even know if she still lived there, but it was a start. It was not a nice block, he knew. He couldn't quite imagine the slight, plain girl against the crumbling brickwork and graffiti but she had indeed lived, and died, there.

It was an hour's run from April's, in a district they frequented often. It was a well-known spot for drug dealers and gang wars. There was always some sort of trouble going on and they were always the ones to clean it up. No doubt the Nightwatcher had become a familiar face there.

Leo pushed all thoughts of Raph out of his head and carried on, he still had a long ways to go yet. He had to be careful, had to go the long way around. Many of the rooftops were littered with obscene, blinding Christmas lights and he couldn't find himself in the glare of them in case he was spotted. As he neared Anya Walker's neighbourhood however, the decorations were getting cheaper and sparser.

Queen's Estate had barely any at all. Ragged strips of faded tinsel lined a couple of windows. One tacky Santa silhouette flickered in a window on the top floor. The place looked empty. Most of the flats had dark, broken windows, ripped grey curtains swung gently in the breeze. A few on the bottom floors had lights. It was eerily quiet, no music, no voices, no people, no cars. Just the screaming of the wind.

He leapt down lightly, wondering which one, if any, belonged to Anya Walker. He didn't know where she was, jail for all he knew. But there had been no more articles in the news archives detailing any arrests. She might have moved long ago, could even be dead. Somewhere, a baby began to cry. Only one way to find out.

He crept through the shadows towards the front doors of the block of flats, but he need not have bothered, there wasn't a soul in sight. To the left were rows of buzzers for each flat, though only a couple had names beside them. He lightly traced them with his finger, hardly daring to breathe, searching, searching. His breath caught painfully in his throat. Anya Walker, flat thirty four. She still lived here.

He'd found her. Now what to do? He couldn't march up the steps and hammer down her door. The locket, that was all he wanted. He couldn't afford to get wrapped up in this any further. He'd have to swallow his anger, his pride, and leave her be. There would be a reason why she wasn't sentenced. He had no right to play God.

He peered through the doors, squinting past the grime. There were four more inside, each one leading to someone's home. He retreated and mentally did the maths. He nodded to himself, satisfied with his answer, and edged around the back, careful to scuff out his trail as he went. Hopefully some more snow would fall in the night and disguise it better.

It was getting colder, he was sure of it. Shivering, he tilted his head upwards to count floors. He didn't know what he was going to do when he got in, but he'd figure that out when he got there. Gracefully he swung himself up onto the balcony of the first floor, wincing when the frozen metal groaned under the sudden weight. He paused nervously, but no one looked out of their window. The baby stopped wailing.

Slowly he made his way up each ladder, floor by floor, feet crunching the untouched snow. He cursed the wintry weather. This would have been so much easier if they weren't in the midst of December. Finally, he made it to the eighth floor, very near the top of the building. He gulped anxiously and made a mental note not to look down.

He wiped the frost from a window, thankful to see the entrance before him led to the lobby of that floor. He was starting to feel a little jittery, probably a mixture of nerves and the chill. He tried the handle, cold and stiff, but not locked. It opened easily and without a sound, someone used this often.

It was warmer inside, but dark. Just one light blinked dimly in the corner. This was stupid, he realised. What was he going to do, pick the lock and stumble into her front room? That was just asking for trouble. But what choice did he have? He had no way of scaling the wall to reach one of the outside windows. Besides, looking at the way the bricks were disintegrating, he didn't fancy his chances. He should have waited, planned this better. He would have to be on his guard.

Swiftly, he slid into the shadows created by the niche of flat thirty four's door and that of thirty five. Reaching out, he rapped three times on the hard wood, sharply and urgently, before quickly withdrawing his arm. He took a deep intake of air, mentally preparing himself for who might answer the door.

It took them a while, but he waited patiently, hearing the scurry of footsteps and the tumble of locks. The door slowly opened, just a crack at first, revealing a round bloodshot eye, but then further until a whole woman emerged, small and slight. Leo didn't look at her face.

She hesitantly peered around, eyes wide in panic, before fully stepping outside. She glanced around, fear turning into confusion. She even took a few steps into the lobby, peeping down the stairs to see if her visitor had decided to flee. She didn't notice the ninja slip behind her into her apartment. She shuddered, not entirely due to the cold, and hurried inside, drawing her faded silk gown tighter against herself.

Leo had already slunk into the darkened corner of the large, dully lit room, his well-trained eyes scanning the vicinity. It was open plan, a kitchenette to his left, a dining table and chairs to his right and the living area before him. There were three other doors, one past the kitchenette, and two together in the hallway, probably bedrooms. The place stunk of mould and smoke and cat urine.

Greying wallpaper covered the walls, peeling and stained in some places. The furniture was dated, dirty, dusty. A lamp next to the couch cast the only light, showing a musty, threadbare carpet. His stomach churned sickeningly. Used syringes were dotted on the floor with an equal amount of baby toys and diapers.

He had to grit his teeth to quell the unexpected rage that boiled within him. The crying baby from earlier. How could anyone raise a child in this kind of environment? It nauseated him, the sheer, selfish stupidity of this woman. The anger he felt over Taryn's murder paled in comparison to this.

He watched her come down the hallway into the light and nearly found himself growling. There was no mistake, this was Taryn's younger sister. There was the same straight, black hair, full red lips and dark eyes. But where Taryn was slim, this woman was gaunt, sallow skin stretched across her cheekbones. She was malnourished, sick even. Leo could see the deep purple rings underneath her eyes.

She headed straight for the counter, head bent and focussed. She looked old, he noticed, a lot older than twenty eight years. Old and haggard. But he didn't feel sorry for her, not in the slightest. An rational thought he had vanished. This woman hadn't changed one bit. Murdering her own sister hadn't brought anything home, and for that he loathed her.

"Nice night," He commented dryly.

She jumped out of her skin and turned to face him, clearly terrified. Her eyes frantically searched the darkness but failed to identify anything other than his bulky, intimidating shadow. She clenched the grubby counter with a white, bony, shaking hand.

"Andrew? I...I told you. I ain't got your money," She stammered, voice barely more than a whisper. Her voice was hoarse, gravelly, completely unlike her sister's.

"I'm not Andrew," He replied gravely, watching her in disdain. She was probably in no end of debt too, if money was the first thing she thought he was after.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" She demanded in a panic. Leo grinned darkly. She grimaced at the flash of white in the blackness.

"Taryn,"

She hissed through her teeth, actually took a step back. He had to laugh at her face twisted in horror. It was like something from a horror movie, Mike would be in his element. She made several attempts to speak, her voice cracking and failing in her throat.

"St...stop tricking me," She whispered, frozen.

"Taryn sent me. She wants back what you stole from her, _Anya_," He spoke her name with particular menace, enjoying her frightened gasp.

"You're lying!" Came her screech.

The baby in another room instantly began wailing horrifically. It took just a split-second. In the moment his eyes were torn in the child's direction, it's mother dived desperately for him. A silver kitchen knife glinted in the shadows. He stepped back in shock, unable to think clearly. She was wild, crying and moaning in frenzy.

Her swipes were erratic and berserk, causing him to stumble backwards. He grabbed her wrists tightly but she struggled and snarled like a woman possessed. He leaned back to avoid that nasty serrated blade and ended up tripping on a misplaced baby rattle. His feet slipped from underneath him and there was an almighty crash as they fell into the dining table. It splintered and shattered under their weight.

He hissed sharply as he felt the ice-cold metal nip easily through his thin coat and the web of muscle on his left bicep as if it were made of butter. He yanked himself free and seized the weapon, tossing it blindly into the corner. She wrenched herself out of the tangle of wood and limbs and clambered backwards into the middle of the room and back into the light, panting heavily. Slowly, he climbed to his feet, kicking wood aside.

"Who are you?" She howled, chest heaving. The baby was still bawling.

"I'm your sister's messenger," He responded solemnly.

He briefly touched his arm, felt blood. He wasn't too worried, it seemed shallow and didn't sting much. He'd just have to be careful not to let it drip anywhere. She began to weep pitifully, curling her arms tightly around her knees, rocking backwards and forwards. No doubt withdrawal had brought on the hysteria.

"You don't understand. What would you have done?" She moaned, tears staining her cheeks.

"You should have known she'd want it back," He scoffed at her pathetic state.

"He was going to kill me!" She screamed, clutching at her throat and scowling in his direction. Leo growled deeply, finally losing his temper.

"Rather let him kill you!" He shouted furiously, nearly forgetting himself and storming into the light. Instead he took a step backwards and spoke calmly. "Rather let him kill you than strangle your own sister," He spat.

"She deserved it! She deserved it," She choked into her knees, repeating it to herself over and over.

"Give it up. Do you realise how ridiculous you look?" He jeered in disbelief.

This seemed to annoy her, unlike his other words. Her head snapped up and she glared hotly in his direction, pulling so hard at her threadbare gown he thought it might tear. He noticed now the ugly abrasions on her bare legs. Glass rattled as she knelt up and then stood on her feet. Her chestnut brown eyes were red raw.

"What does she want then? What on earth could my precious big sister want that she couldn't drag herself from the grave to fetch, huh?" She snapped, backing towards the large, dusty window behind her. The baby hiccuped, finally settling.

"I think you already know Anya," He answered quietly, eyes alert. There was no telling what she might do.

"No, I don't. Come on, tell me. What is it? What does she want? My sanity? My baby?" Her hysterical tone dropped darkly, her hand placed on the window latch. "My _life_?"

"Anya," He began worriedly, his whole body tensed with trepidation now. She was beginning to scare him, and not like her sister did.

"Why didn't she come herself and ask me, huh?" She wanted to know, clearly ignoring him. "Was the bitch too scared to demand my life?" She cracked the latch open, the sound sharp and final.

"Anya, wait,"

She was going to throw herself out of that damn window, he could see it. It was wide enough too, and they were eight floors up. She wasn't frightened either. Her voice and movements were too certain, too eager. But it was like she'd forgotten he was even there. Her eyes were glazed over, talking to someone he couldn't see.

"'Cause I'll give it to her. God, it'd be my fucking pleasure! In fact, I might even pay her a visit!"

With that, she slid the window upwards, the frame groaning with the effort. A chilly wind forced its way in, disrupting the curtains. Leo's heart leapt into his throat as he watched her turn towards the night air. He had to do something! All feelings of animosity dispersed and instead he was left with a numb panic.

"Anya, stop!" He dashed forwards into the pool of light thrown out by the lamp, hands reaching out to pull her to safety.

She spun to face him and shrieked in terror at the monster she was met with. Repulsed at the green skin and unusual features she scrambled backwards, clutching at the curtains recklessly. Her bare feet stepped onto a toy, which rolled from underneath her and threw her rearwards. Before he could barely move she had smashed her head against the plastic window frame, the crack of bone offensive. He bolted forwards but she had already toppled through.

He reached the ledge too late. She was falling through the night sky, her gown billowing and rippling in the breeze. Her cold glassy eyes stared accusingly into his as she hurtled towards the concrete car park below. A trickle of blood oozed from her temple. She hit the pavement like a porcelain doll, limbs splayed, white as china.

He lurched back, clutching his stomach and fighting the bile rising in his throat. He never meant for her to die. He shouldn't have made a spectacle, shouldn't have terrified her. He should have just found the locket and left. Would Taryn be angry? He'd orphaned her nephew or niece, triggered the accidental death of her sister.

He didn't feel guilty, but he didn't feel joy at her death either. Just a cold, empty numbness, deep within his heart. It was almost as if his brain had switched onto autopilot, he was barely aware of what he was doing. The locket, he had to find it. And fast, before her neighbours discovered the body.

He turned away from the window and observed his surroundings. She hadn't been wearing the necklace, this he knew, as the neckline of her gown was cut to reveal the throat. So that, he was grateful for. But where on earth would she keep it. Did she even have it? She could have sold it or misplaced it or given it away years ago. He wanted to avoid rifling through her private belongings as much as possible.

He didn't have much time. His eyes fell onto the lamp on the cabinet beside the couch. It was as good a place to start as any. He hurriedly dropped to his knees and wrenched the drawer open. He pushed aside useless letters and bills and pacifiers, but no locket.

Growling in frustration he pulled on the cupboard door beneath, nearly wrestling the handle off. It was jammed, probably from neglect or misuse. He pulled harder and it groaned awfully before finally shooting open. There was a single photo frame inside, covered in dust.

He reached forwards and picked it up, wiping the glass clean. It was an old picture, probably thirty years old, if not more. It was of a small, plump woman, middle-aged. She was stood next to a large elm tree, which towered over her and cast shadows on her pretty face. She wore plain clothes, had long, wavy hair. Black, with rosy red lips and dark eyes.

Their mom, he realised with a start. He could see both of them in her despite the slight differences. He wondered where she was, this woman who had now lost two daughters. Would she ever know what had occurred here tonight? What would she think? Suicide or foul play?

He noticed bumps in the paper, underneath the glass. Curious, he turned it over and undid the thick cardboard backing. Out tumbled something silver and delicate that had been confined within. He looked down in surprise and saw the plainest piece of jewellery he'd ever seen.

He set aside the photo and picked it up, handling the thin chain with utmost care in his large fingers. It wasn't at all fancy, nothing like the ones you'd find in a jewellery store today. It was oval shaped and plain silver, with no engravings, no stones, nothing. Deftly, he cracked it open to find the tiniest pair of baby photos, almost identical.

Taryn and Anya, many, many, many years ago. Their small, innocent faces made him smile regretfully. A mom's necklace, the real treasure was hidden within. He closed it back up and slipped it into his belt. He put the photograph back together and placed it in the cabinet where it belonged. Stiffly, he got to his feet.

His arm twinged, reminding him of his injury. He'd better hurry and get out of here. He hunted for the knife, found it on the wooden floorboards next to the stove. He wiped it clean on his coat and tucked it into his pocket. He couldn't leave it lying around with his blood on it for anyone to find. There was no use worrying about fingerprints either. It wasn't like he could get rid of those.

He was positive he could hear sirens in the distance. Deciding the baby would be fine for a little while longer, he raced down the hallway and out of her apartment door. He sprinted back out onto the balcony but instead of descending he thundered up two more ladders and onto the rooftop.

It was snowing now, fat flakes drifting through the cobalt blue sky. He could definitely hear sirens wailing now and they were getting closer. There were voices too, cries of consternation at the discovery of the grisly corpse ten floors below. He didn't look down and he didn't stick around either.

He retraced his steps home, a feeling of accomplishment settling over him despite the unlucky turn of events. He would see Taryn tomorrow night. Tonight he would rest, she could wait another day. He would face anything Raph and Splinter threw at him, as long as he could climb into bed and sleep afterwards.

Abruptly he became aware of thousands of pressing shadows and presences. He skidded to a halt, heart thumping loudly in his chest. The darkness was suffocating, enveloping him from all sides. There were no physical bodies there but he could just _feel _people clamouring from every angle, striving to reach him.

He spun on his heel to dash in the other direction but it was there still, closing in. A voice now, male or female he didn't know, yelling. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block it out, but more were starting, crying out over and over in his ears. He wanted to lash out, to fight back but he couldn't even breathe. He fell to his knees, gasping, struggling, but it was no use.

They were crushing him.

To Be Continued

A.N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm realising they are getting longer and longer heh. Feedback appreciated! Take care!


	5. Chapter 5

A.N: So here it is, chapter five, the final one! Took long enough haha. Although this is relatively short compared to my usual stuff, and a lot more frequently updated lol. I'd just like to say thank you to all those that have read, whether you've reviewed or not, it means a lot to me. No doubt I'll be bitten by some more plot bunnies soon! See you then!

Something For the Rest Of Us

Chapter Five

He felt like he was drowning. Those first few moments of consciousness felt like he was dragging himself through thick, gooey, freezing water fathoms deep. His lungs were on fire, overflowing with cruel, singeing heat. There were shapes in the darkness, humans he thought. They swirled just beyond his reach, unable or unwilling to help. This was it. He was going to die.

And then he opened his mouth and took the biggest, most wonderful gasp of clean, fresh air. He almost gagged on the purity of it. He swallowed great breaths, feeling the coolness slide down his throat and douse the flames in his chest. Once he could breathe normally, he opened his eyes and could have cried with relief.

It was his room, welcoming and unspoiled. He was tucked up in bed, three extra blankets on top of his original duvet. He shifted and regretted it, wincing as a thousand muscles twinged at the movement. His left arm in particular throbbed and he glanced at it, remembering the fight with Anya Walker. He'd ache for a while, but he could live with that.

"Finished taking inventory?" Asked an amused voice.

Looking over in surprise, he saw Donatello sat on his left, smiling fondly at him. He frowned in confusion. This made no sense. He couldn't recall coming home, only being surrounded on the rooftops by god knows what. Looking around now he could find no trace of the mysterious presences. He sighed out in reprieve. It was just the two of them.

"Am I glad to see you," Leo laughed quietly, leaning up on one elbow. He was always uncomfortable lying on his shell.

"Be grateful it's not Splinter," Donny said darkly, helping his brother sit up.

"Trust me, I am," Leo commented sincerely, reaching over for the glass of water Don offered.

"He flipped when he found that knife in your belt. Thought you'd been self-harming. I had to explain to him that the cut on your arm was completely at the wrong angle," The younger turtle scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"He _thought _that?" Leo asked in disbelief. Donny nodded gravely.

"Sure, you've been acting weird lately, but I wouldn't go _that _far," He shook his head, taking the empty glass back.

Leo leaned back, tsking in dubiety still. Were things so warped around here that Splinter thought he'd lost his mind? Their Sensei was the one who preached secrecy at all costs. If he'd left the kitchen knife in the apartment no doubt forensic scientists would have a field day researching the blood found on it. He needed a good, long talk with Master Splinter, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"Who found me?" He wanted to know, fingering the bandage around his arm absent-mindedly.

"Raph. He went looking for you when you weren't home by dawn. It was lucky he did too, an hour more and you'd have caught hypothermia," Don scolded lightly, but Leo could tell he wasn't really annoyed.

"Did he see the people? Or hear the voices?" Leo asked curiously, wondering what the situation had been when Raph discovered him.

"People? Voices?" Don repeated quickly, frowning and leaning forwards in concern.

Leo paused. Raph would have said something if he had. But he could have sworn they were real, the pressure of their touch had been so intense, their voices so thunderous. He couldn't have been imagining them, they were the reason he passed out, swallowed whole by the darkness.

"Must've been a dream," He suggested slowly, eyes glazing over as he thought. Worriedly, Don reached over and placed a warm hand to his forehead.

"You don't seem to have a fever," He muttered in confusion, searching his eyes for any more tell-tale signs.

"I feel fine," Leo dismissed his brother's unease breezily, throwing the covers aside and swinging his legs over the edge. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Three days," Donny mumbled, still frowning.

"Huh, longer than I thought," Leo shrugged, peering hard at the silver locket on his bedside table. He had an awful feeling he'd forgotten something. Then it clicked. "Shit! Taryn!"

Much to Donatello's great surprise, he dived to his feet, seized the pendant and dashed towards the exit in a scurry of panic. Dazed, Donny stumbled after him, calling out his name. It was late at night and minus three degrees out there, he'd catch a cold for definite after his recent escapades.

"Where are you going? Who's Taryn?" He demanded, following as he thundered down the stairs and tore through the TV area, startling Raph and Mikey.

"Tell you later! Won't be long!" Leo answered in a rush. And with that he grabbed his coat and bolted out of the door, leaving three stunned brothers in his wake.

"What the shell was that all about?" Mikey exclaimed in awe, flicking pause on the controller.

"I have no idea. Who's Taryn?" Donny wondered, staring at the door as if it held the answered he sought.

"Some dead chick," Raph replied in astonishment, fiddling around in his belt for the article their brother dropped a few nights ago.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Donny questioned suspiciously, coming over to the couch.

"Yeah," Raph located it and unfolded the paper, scanning its contents. "She was murdered about ten years ago by her sister,"

Don took the item he offered and read it within seconds, pulling a face in bewilderment. He passed it on to Mike, who took longer to read it but reacted with an equal amount of confusion.

"'Queen's Estate'? Isn't that near where you found him?" The youngest asked aloud, observing their faces for a reaction.

"Yeah. There were cops swarmin' 'round that place," Raph recalled, tone soft as he remembered avoiding that area like the plague.

"Think Leo had something to do with it?" Mike breathed, blue eyes wide in fright.

"More than likely," Donny answered sinisterly, a scowl gracing his features. "Raph, you'd better go after him,"

"Will do,"

Raph tossed his controller aside and stood up. He gathered his sais from the table with a musical chink of metal on wood and neatly slipped them into his belt before shrugging into his coat and boots. Their feet were well hardened to the elements now but they were still prone to colds and influenza from the icy weather. He bid them farewell and went on his way.

"I won't tell Splinter if you won't," Mike joked dryly as his remaining brother flopped onto the couch in Raph's place.

"He's going to kill him," Don shook his head in defeat, eyeing the zombies that were mid-slaughter on the screens in front of them.

"At least Raph's chilled out a bit," Mike shrugged, keen to find a bright side to their predicament.

"But for how long?" Donny countered bitterly.

"I dunno. Hopefully this'll make 'em sort it out," Mike smiled encouragingly.

"Let's hope so," Donny sighed, taking the abandoned controller and un-pausing the game.

Leo pounded into the outskirts of the deserted park, his heart hammering against his ribs. He took care to avoid the street lamps, manoeuvring through the shadows towards their meeting place. It was deadly quiet, but that didn't mean a thing. Boy was Taryn going to be pissed. He'd dare leave her waiting a day but not three. It was a wonder she hadn't started haunting him or something.

Coming around the corner and through the damp, scratchy bushes, he saw she was already there. She was in her usual position, bathed in moonlight and staring at the stars wheeling over head. She didn't _seem _angry, thought Leo as he approached cautiously. There was a calm, patient aura about her. It was almost as if she was waiting to say goodbye.

"Hey," He greeted quietly.

She spun on her heel, clearly alarmed, hands outstretched as if to defend herself. But then she realised it was only him and she visibly relaxed, sighing and smiling widely in relief. He didn't know if it was the way the moonlight shone on her white skin, or if his tired eyes were playing tricks on him, but she almost seemed transparent. She'd been crying again, her mascara leaving dark, wet dribbles down her cheeks. She wiped them hurriedly. He was always amazed to see her make up remained perfect underneath.

"There you are. I was beginning to worry," She breathed thankfully as he strode towards her.

"I was..." He hesitated. It sounded stupid to say 'asleep'. "Out of it. For a while," He finally decided on.

"You're hurt," She frowned, eyeing the fresh linen bandage on his arm.

"Just a scratch," He shrugged casually.

"I didn't think you'd come back," She admitted boldly, folding her arms and examining him like a mother hen.

"Didn't have much faith in me?" He grinned light-heartedly. She gave a small chuckle.

"You're a ninja. You might have disappeared into the shadows and I'd never have known," She whispered, her tone serious as she searched his eyes with her own.

"Yeah you would," He smirked, uneasy with this new sombre attitude of hers.

"Yeah, I probably would," She laughed again, a pleasant, calming sound.

Her dark eyes flickered from his and focussed on something behind him. He expected a hostile reaction perhaps, to some meddlesome ghost, so he was quite surprised to see her full lips smile widely, her eyes sparkling.

"Good evening Raphael," She greeted jovially.

Leo spun on his heel in shock and scanned the darkened park. Sure enough Raph emerged from the shadows, his expression an amusing and intriguing mixture of guilt at being caught eavesdropping and confusion over the mysterious girl. He stopped a few paces behind them, considering the pair searchingly. Leo shook his head in disapproval, but turned back to Taryn anyway. Strangely, he didn't feel betrayed by Raphael's presence.

"I have it," He announced, uncurling his fist and allowing the jewellery to dangle between them.

Taryn gasped in delight and delicately took it from him. He prepared himself for the chill he knew would come from her long, thin fingers but, oddly enough it didn't come. Instead, the temperature of her skin was lukewarm almost.

He smiled, watching her croon over the item, caressing it tenderly and regarding it as if it were her own baby. She cracked it open and almost whimpered at the images she found. She fingered her sister's picture, her face contracting in puzzlement, even nostalgia. She wiped the tears before they could fall. She sniffed and snapped it shut.

"I don't know how I can ever thank you enough," She smiled at him, fastening it around her neck. It hung bright against her black shirt.

"Don't worry about it," He shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. "What will you do now?" He wanted to know.

"Who knows? I just know it's time to move on. I think...I'd like to see Anya," She murmured thoughtfully.

"Did you know she had a baby?" He asked quietly. She nodded gravely. "And you _still _sent me after her?" He questioned incredulously.

"I sent you to retrieve my locket. I didn't send you on an assassination mission," She answered sharply, eyes flashing a warning.

He wasn't offended though, just nodded his agreement. He was aware of Raphael taking a step forward then, his brother's body language a combination of concern and frustration. Leo opened his mouth to reassure the younger turtle, but a flicker of movement from behind Taryn caused him to pause.

There was a presence just beyond the clearing, watching them. He could see no physical body, but his intuition identified the being. It didn't seem malevolent, more intrigued at the strange exchange before it. He even heard it murmur, a boyish, inquisitive tone. He frowned and took a step forward.

"You can sense them now, can't you?" Taryn asked gently. He looked at her, perturbed. Her voice had sounded bizarrely sympathetic.

"What do you mean?" He implored, eyes flitting to her instead.

"I told you, you shouldn't have touched me," She replied quietly.

"These have come because I _touched_ you?" He scoffed in disbelief. "We touched on the night we met. And nothing happened then," He challenged indignantly.

"_I _touched _you_ then. There's a difference. I can't control it when you initiate the contact," She responded, wrapping her arms around her middle.

"Who are they?" He whispered, observing the presence again. This one didn't appear to be a threat.

"They're trapped souls. Like me. You can't see them, but you know they're there, right? Your sixth sense has been awakened. At least, that's what I _think_," She explained softly, watching him for a reaction.

Strangely enough, he wasn't surprised, or horrified. He didn't like it, but it made sense. No wonder he'd felt so overwhelmed, it was like he was seeing things for the first time. It wasn't the end of the world, he could live with it, probably. He'd have to learn how to discern the spiritual from the physical, and it would heighten his paranoia almost unbearably. But, he would cope.

Raph was lost. He knew his brother had been acting weird lately, but this topped it all. Who would have thought Fearless Leader would be sneaking off to visit a girl at all hours of the morning? But something didn't seem _right _about this woman. There was something ethereal about her, like she didn't quite belong in the waking world, but in dreams.

And here she was claiming his brother could sense _ghosts _now? And what was all that rubbish about a baby and an assassination? All over some dumb locket. Did this have anything to do with Anya Walker? This just didn't add up. He wished Don was there,he was good with mysteries. Or even Mike, to make them all laugh and forget the bad stuff.

"So. What about you? What are _you _going to do now?" The girl wondered, smiling playfully at the oldest turtle.

"What? Me? I dunno," Leo answered in surprise, shooting Raphael a nervous glance.

Raph simply watched. Who knows what they would do? He was starting to feel pissed off once more. Leo was _still _off gallivanting playing the hero when it was his own family that needed help. It wasn't even like he was acting vigilante, like he and Casey did. No, he was running around with ghosts and messing with things that should have been left well alone. It was none of Leo's business who murdered this girl. The past was the past and what was done was well and truly done.

"Come with me,"

Her offer took the brothers by absolute surprise. Raph stared in disbelief at her calm, welcoming face. What the _fuck _was this chick talking about? She was dead. As a door nail. Who knew where the hell she was going to end up after this? Leo wasn't dead, he had no reason to go with her, wherever she was going. Why on earth would she even ask him?

"W-what?" Leo stammered, blinking in shock.

"Come with me," She repeated firmly. "I'd like it if you were there with me," She smiled warmly.

"To...to...where?" He wondered in awe.

"Who knows? That's the fun of it," She laughed, eyes twinkling.

For a while, Leo actually considered it. This would be the ultimate adventure. Journeying into the unknown with a brand new friend whom he'd come to like very much. Who knows what they'd find? The pearly white gates of heaven? The fiery pits of hell? Clichéd it may be, but he liked to hope that there was somewhere for them to go when it was all over. And the idea of delving into mystery gave him an undeniable thrill.

Then he paused and looked over his shoulder at Raphael, who was scrutinising him closely. Never to return. Never to step foot again on earth. Never to see his brothers' faces, his father's, his friends'. No. There was no choice about it. He wouldn't run away.

"No. Thank you. But, I think, I'm going to stick around. I have to...rebuild some bridges," He gave Raph a small, shy smile, causing his twin's eyes to widen, astounded. Taryn grinned at him.

"I knew you'd say that. You're lucky to have him Raphael," She remarked sincerely.

"I know," Was his quiet response. Leo whirled in alarm at his brother's revelation. He softened at Raph's genuine expression.

"_I'm _the lucky one," He sighed.

"You both are," Taryn agreed. "Well then. I guess this is goodbye,"

Leo stared at the tiny hand she held before her. Goodbye. It sounded so final. He didn't know if he was ready. Sire, he'd gone through some worry and confusion since she butted into his life, but she offered him reassurance and a friendly ear. With her gone, where was he supposed to get that? Sure, he couldn't stop her from finally passing on, he was happy for her, but who was to stop him from falling apart at the seams?

Raph. He realised with a start. Raph, and Mikey, and Don. His greatest friends. All they had was each other. Sure, things were tough, but that's how it was and he knew that before he left for the jungle. He'd forgotten that in the time he went away, forgotten there was a life in New York completely different for the new one he'd found. The difference was, he wasn't alone anymore.

"Goodbye Taryn,"

He enclosed her delicate hand with his large one and shook it tenderly, formally. Then she bent forward, catching him unawares and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. She laughed at his dazed expression, a melodic, beautiful sound he never wanted to forget. He drank in the way she looked, the full red curves of her lips, the emerald sparkle in her eyes, the gentle curl of her hair.

And then she was gone. His hand stuck out in mid-air, tingling with the sudden chill. There wasn't a trace left, not even a hint of perfume or a footprint impressed upon the earth. She had completely vanished before his very eyes. She'd passed on, escaped limbo. He vaguely wondered if he'd gone mad, if he'd imagined her in some desperate attempt to console himself. However, when he turned around, Raphael was staring in amazement, and Leo knew he was perfectly sane.

"Y'just can't resist playin' the good guy, can ya?" His brother commented snidely, closing the distance between them in three short strides.

"I couldn't help it. There was just _something _about her," Leo replied softly.

There was an emptiness in his chest – he was missing her already. He suddenly felt drained and his arm was starting to twinge. With a sigh, he slumped his shoulders and deflated the obnoxious Fearless Leader posture. He couldn't keep this up forever. He was starting to bend beneath the strain, intensified by the grief he felt with Taryn's departure.

"Don't you get it Leo? Y'can't go runnin' around savin' everyone else when your own _family _is fallin' apart!" Raph spat coldly, glaring daggers at the older but smaller turtle.

"What was I supposed to do? Leave her stuck in limbo?" Leo bristled in defence and returned his brother's scowl.

"It had nothin' to do with you. That chick's been dead ten years an' now y'go 'n' get her sister killed. The police are gonna have a _field day _in there!" Raph snapped, fingers itching to physically prove his point.

"That was an accident!" Leo hissed, his voice equally as hateful. "You're nothing but a hypocrite Raph!"

"What are you talkin' about?" Raph narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"What about the Nightwatcher huh? I'm pretty sure vigilantism counts as 'saving everyone else'!" Leo argued hotly, chocolate eyes flashing.

"I was pickin' up _your _slack! An' now I'm doin' it again! Y'can't _hack _being a leader! Y'can't stand Splinter yellin' atcha, your fightin's gettin' sloppy, you're just a mess!" Raph scoffed, waving his hands dismissively.

"What do you _want _from me?" Leo demanded in exasperation, voice high with exhaustion.

"Man up! Deal with this shit! I thought you understood, but you're the same pompous ass you were before!" Raph growled menacingly.

"Understood _what_?" Leo stressed, feeling close to hysterics now.

Raph groaned in angry frustration and whirled round, tempted to give the nearby bench a good thrashing. Leo didn't know what to do anymore. How could he repair their relationship when he didn't have a clue. Understood what, exactly? He cast his mind back but he couldn't remember any heart-to-hearts, any profound epiphanies.

"Imagine," Raph began, his voice strangely quiet. "That all you've waited for is a chance to prove your worth, and it gets passed onto somebody else. And they blow it,"

Leo paused, hearing the disappointment in his brother's tone. All Leo ever tried to do was show Master Splinter he was a son to be proud of, and every time he failed, well, it was crushing. He could identify with that all too well. Surely Raph knew that? Knew that sometimes all he wanted to do was run back to the jungle.

When he'd left, Donny had been appointed the temporary leader. This had hurt, so, to be in Raph's position, Leo could imagine the dissatisfaction, the injustice he must have felt. He sighed tiredly. No wonder they were clashing. Raph felt cheated and Leo had been demanding respect without realising he had to earn it back in the first place.

"I can't do this any more Raph," He whispered, sinking onto the bench. After all this he could sleep for a week.

"Do what?" Raph sighed in defeat.

"Everything. Fighting with you, trying to get Mike and Don back to normal. Failing to live up to Splinter's expectations. You want the job, I get it. But what _you _don't get is the pressure, the weight. If things aren't, if _I'm _not perfect, then, well, let's just say he doesn't let me forget it," Leo snarled, rubbing at his bandaged arm in annoyance.

Raph turned and eyed him in interest. Failure. They all knew Leo had major issues with it. How much of Leo's account was fabricated by it? Did Splinter's pressure come from Leo's previous failures, or did the failures come from the pressure? Leo wasn't always this obsessed with perfection, it had come over time. Raph remembered when Leo didn't care so much if he wasn't good at things, he just enjoyed doing them. It was in that Raph found his answer.

"I have an idea," He said slowly, thinking as he spoke.

"Yeah?" Leo truly didn't think any idea of Raph's could help right now.

"Share it," His brother suggested lightly.

"What?" Leo frowned and looked up in apprehension.

"Share it. The weight," Raph asserted sincerely.

"How?" Leo breathed, hardly daring anything of the sort was even possible.

"I dunno. Share the training sessions, the patrols. Relax a bit, don't go ape shit when things get outta hand," Raph proposed with a shrug.

"I'm not sure if I could do that," Leo shook his head sadly, knowing it was too good to be true.

"For God's sake Leo, just try! Gimme some responsibility here! Let me show Splinter I ain't a total screw-up!" Raph exploded in fury, stomping to face his brother.

Leo looked up, considering. Give Raph some responsibility. He didn't know if he could back off, if he could completely relax and trust Raph to lead when he hadn't been disciplined for it his entire life like Leo had. But then, wasn't the whole idea of leading a team about teaching them and guiding them to stand on their own two feet? It would be nice to know he had a supportive second-in-command whom he could trust when things went bad and he failed.

"Look. I know you wouldn't be able to just let it all go and leave it to me. I don't want ya to. I just want ya to give me a little more credit," Raph appealed passionately, looking down at his beaten brother.

It reminded him of their fight weeks ago and he marvelled at how different he felt. Then he was outraged and bloodthirsty. Now he was begging for a chance, and willing to let Leo step back and take a breather. He couldn't ask his brother to give it all up, Leo'd never be able to do it, it was hammered into his brain from such a young age. But he could help shoulder the burden, prove to Splinter he would have been a better choice than Don. Their younger brother, although patient and intelligent, was fragile and introverted. Together, he and Leo would make the perfect team.

Leo smiled and held out his hand.

"Deal,"

Raph grinned and shook it heartily, before dragging Leo to his feet for the long, cold walk home.

"So you can sense ghosts now? Splinter's gonna loooove that!"

/

It must be somewhere near dawn, he surmised, but he just couldn't sleep. He sighed and stretched his entire body, groaning in contentment at the pleasant feeling deep within his muscles. He felt sleepy but his mind just didn't want to shut off tonight. It wasn't entirely unusual. His sleeping pattern had yet to return to normality, some weeks after he came home.

Things had slowly started to improve in his life. The weight was still there, ever so crushing and relentless, but, every so often, he was relieved, just for a little while. He could stop, catch his breath, then bear it once more. Occasionally, Raph would conduct a training session, or lead a fight against some rowdy Purple Dragons. Leo was stupefied to find his brother's judgement was generally sound. Sure, he was quick to attack and hated to retreat, but he understood strategy, and environment.

Mikey and Don were enthusiastic about the idea, eager to attempt a harmonious partnership. It was Splinter who was doubtful, partly of Raphael's abilities and of Leonardo's possible laziness if his duties were alleviated. But he needn't have worried, as he soon saw. Leonardo was never lackadaisical, especially when engaging in excursions and fights on the surface when lives were at risk. No, things had definitely started to look up.

And it was a good thing, too. The majority of the time had to trust his brothers' instincts instead of his own. He'd had to re-evaluate his spatial awareness constantly, new presences were always vanishing from and appearing into the vicinity, some malicious but most harmless. He'd had a hard time discerning the spiritual from the physical, but he was gradually starting to adjust to this new feature. It certainly made him more aware of his surroundings in any case.

His thoughts couldn't help but drift to the young woman who had began all this. He missed her, would be lying if he said he didn't, but at the same time he was grateful she was gone. Having someone know so much about him was disturbing. It would have been amazing to know her in a different lifetime, where they could be friends in the land of the living. They would have been each other's scaffolding, their life line when things were shattering beneath their fingertips.

He had her to thank for repairing his relationship with Raphael. Now all they argued about was what to include in their daily practice sessions and where to go on their runs. Periodically, Leo would get an earful for taking on too much and not backing off, but to be fair, none of the brothers would have it any other way. The leader was just Leo's role within the family, and that would never change. It would be like taking away Mikey's comics, or Don's laboratory and demanding they get along without them. It was impossible.

Leo sighed and gave up sleeping as a bad job. He flung the warm sheets aside and got up, shivering from the chill and planning on some soothing meditation before everyone else woke up. The lair was dark and silent, and he almost felt guilty breaking it to boil the kettle for tea. Being completely alone was a little unsettling, and the shrill whistle of the steaming contraption eased his nerves. That done, he planted himself on the threadbare couch for some early morning television.

The screens flickered in the darkness, the sound as low as it could be. The steady hum lulled him into a sense of security and erased any brewing panic. There was a being skulking shyly in the corner, he could tell, but it wasn't angry so he paid it no heed. Sometimes he had difficulty focussing on the living when the room was so full of spirits, alive and dead, but he was getting better at it. He dreaded to think what would happen if any of the bitter souls were intent on causing any harm. He usually ended up having to distract himself from thinking about it, and he never spoke of it to the others. He wished he'd have asked her what to do.

He absent-mindedly watched the news, idly sipping his hot tea. Weird ghost-sensing aside, he was happy now. He froze as a report was read aloud about Anya Walker. He didn't feel particularly guilty, it had been an accident after all, but he had avoided the news in fear of learning more about her. Taryn hadn't seemed angry, far from it, more curious about the prospect of finally seeing her sister and getting the answers she had waited ten years for.

His blood ran cold and his heart thumped painfully against his ribcage but he took a deep breath, deciding he was ready, there was no need to hurriedly change the channel. He should brace himself and accept what had happened. He would find out in the near future anyway, may as well get it over with. It was quiet and early, he could watch the programme, take five minutes to process it and calm himself, then he would continue on. The Walker sisters would be a memory.

He was gratified to see the police had concluded it as accidental suicide, which technically it was. Thankfully, they had not identified anything strange to suggest there was someone else with her at the time of death. A lot of information about her he already knew from guesswork. She was a well-known drug addict, had accumulated thousands of dollars worth of debts. She had been accused of murdering her sister ten years ago but pleaded insanity and was released due to insufficient evidence. She wouldn't be missed, their parents had died many, many years ago.

That was okay, this he could deal with. If they had suspected homicide or found traces that implied he had been there, he'd have panicked. But this was closure. He didn't have to think of Anya Walker anymore. Her sister, however, would remain in his thoughts for a long time to come. He thought he'd probably die thinking of her, and it comforted him to know she would most likely be waiting for him. The baby would be safe, he knew. Anya and Taryn were at peace. Things could finally return to normal.

The newsreader's final sentence left him reeling in hysteria.

"Walker leaves behind her seven month old daughter, Taryn,"

The end

A.N: Thank you for reading this far, I love you all. I hope you enjoyed it. Hopefully you shall hear more from me soon, I'm planning a rewrite of my first Leo/Usagi now I know a lot more about the bunny Samurai, so please stick around for that! See you soon.


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